Dance Offs and Cocoa by the Fire
by vaguelyaperson
Summary: A collection of Hetalia pairing ficlets. Multiship. (Ships so far: amechu, sufin, fruk, belaliech, hunukr, gerita)
1. Amechu

Author's Note: I'm a huge multishipper. Especially when it comes to Hetalia. So I decided the best outlet for this would be a collection of multiship ficlets.

The main idea of this is that I'll put my music list on shuffle, and think of a pairing to go along with a song. These won't be songfics.

I will take requests!

* * *

Amechu - (America/Fem!China)

Inspiring Song: Shape of You - Ed Sheeran

* * *

"We should learn the foxtrot."

Chun Yan paused in the middle of her bicep curl, and turned on her boyfriend. "You mean the dance?"

"Yeah." Alfred said. He had two dumbbells, but was only holding them up at his shoulders, looking off in thought. "That would be cool."

Chun Yan shook her head and continued with her repetitions. "Why the foxtrot?"

Alfred shrugged, and then suddenly remembering that they were working out, started back on his exercise. "I don't know… anyways, bet'cha I can do more one armed pushups than you."

Chun Yan laughed. "In your dreams. How many times have I beaten you?"

"41 to 42. I've kept track. I'm currently in the lead."

"Alright," Chun Yan grinned as she put down her dumbbell. "You're on."

* * *

"Why do girls always take so much time?" Alfred muttered to himself. Beside him, the guy at the reception desk nodded in agreement.

But Chun Yan took her sweet time, and maybe Alfred could excuse her for taking half an hour in the locker room, because she walked out looking like she hadn't sweat a bit. She was freshly showered, hair done up in her usual buns, and wearing a bright yellow sundress and makeup that gave her an innocent, girly appearance.

Alfred noticed the guy at the reception desk checking her out, so he swiftly put an arm around her and held open the door. He grinned when he noticed the guy's soured expression.

"So, I was thinking. Maybe not the Foxtrot, but the Waltz." Alfred announced as they walked to the car.

"Slow or Viennese?" Chun Yan asked. "And what's wrong with the Foxtrot?"

Alfred unlocked the car, and opened Chun Yan's door for her. She eyed him.

"Waltz is definitely better."

* * *

Alfred scooped up the last of his ice cream cup, while across from him, Chun Yan was reapplying her shiny pink lip gloss. Between the two of them were the six plates of buffet food that they had polished off.

"I've decided." Alfred said once he had deposited the empty ice cream cup with his napkins. "We should most definitely learn the tango."

"Are you just thinking up faster dances?" Chun Yan surveyed herself in her compact mirror, making sure the rest of her makeup was unaffected by their all-you-can-eat spree.

"Is there a faster or sexier dance than the tango?"

Chun Yan snapped the compact mirror closed and put it back in her purse. "I don't know."

"Then we should learn the tango."

"Okay, why are you so stuck on ballroom dancing today?"

"Hm… I think I just really like the idea of seeing you in a long black dress, red lipstick. Kind of femme fatale. I think it would be a good look for you."

Chun Yan put her purse down and stared at Alfred, her brow quirked in a deadpan expression.

"So are we still on for dinner tomorrow?" Alfred asked, pulling out his cell.

"Yeah… yeah. We are."

* * *

Chun Yan was taking her time again, but Alfred waited outside her door, like the good boyfriend he was. He even resisted knocking repeatedly at the door. She probably wouldn't hear from her room, anyways.

He looked up when he heard the door handle click, and then his jaw dropped when he saw Chun Yan.

She was wearing a long, spaghetti strap black dress, with a slit up the leg. Her hair was pinned back into a small bun, with the rest of her hair curled and cascading down her upper back. She didn't forget the lipstick, a deep scarlet that matched flawlessly with her perfect winged eyeliner.

Chun Yan slipped on her purse as Alfred tried to remember how words worked.

"So, _I've_ been thinking," Chun Yan said. "We should take ballet."

"Er, why ballet?"

Chun Yan grinned and stepped out the door, locking it behind her.

She then breezed past Alfred and smacked him on his butt as she did.

"I don't know. I think I'd just like to see you in a leotard."


	2. Sufin

Sufin (Sweden/Finland)

Inspiring Song: Say You Won't Let Go - James Arthur

* * *

Berwald's arms wrapped around Tino, and he held his husband from behind. The two of them watched out the bay window as Peter tried to convince Erland to help him with a giant snowman. The window frosted over and the snow continued to add another layer to shoveled driveway.

Tino and Berwald had already spent their time outside with the boys, but had retreated inside. Behind them, the fire in their stone fireplace flickered to life, giving off much needed warmth to the room.

"You cold?" Berwald asked.

"No." Tino smiled as he leaned into Berwald's embrace.

"I can make cocoa."

That did sound tempting. Tino rather liked Berwald's hot cocoa. He never skimped out on the sugar. That was also Peter's favorite thing of his father's winter drinks.

"Hm. I think I can wait until they come back inside." Tino decided.

Berwald frowned. And then he let go to retreat to the couch. Tino was about to complain when Berwald quickly returned with a blanket. He then wrapped the blanket around the both of them. They turned back to watching the smaller nations.

Tino sighed, but took the opportunity to snuggle in closer. "I'm not cold, really."

"Wanted to make sure."

Deciding to indulge his husband's efforts, Tino gave Berwald a kiss on the cheek. He would have gone for a kiss on the lips, but with the way they were standing and bundled in the blanket, the angle was a bit difficult.

Berwald received the message and adjusted their positions well enough that he could respond with a proper kiss.

Tino rested his head on Berwald's shoulder.

"Should we call them in soon?" Tino asked. Peter and Erland had already been outside for two hours, including the time that Tino and Berwald had joined them. They were dressed in hats and scarves appropriate to the weather, but both the boys were sporting bright red noses and cheeks. Erland looked as if he was more than ready to go back inside, but he begrudgingly helped Peter place the head on Peter's snowman. Even without the head, the snowman was already taller than Peter.

"No." Berwald answered.

"Maybe no more than another hour… you remember the last time Peter got frostbite? Really, he's better suited for the rain. And it's unbelievable that Erland's still out there. Do you think he's okay?"

Berwald considered all of that and then replied with, "Was frostnip."

Tino exhaled. "Okay, it was frostnip, but that's not pleasant either."

Berwald wrapped his arms tighter around Tino. "They'll come in when they want."

There was no worrying past that point, much as Tino would have tried to push it, so Tino settled with enjoying warmth from his husband, the blanket, and the little fire crackling behind them. And once the snowman was complete, it seemed like Erland was doing his part to convince Peter to go inside.

That would be nice. Tino was looking forward to the hot cocoa, and he was sure his boys would enjoy the treat as well.


	3. Fruk

Fruk - (Fem!France/England)

Inspiring Song: Paris - The Chainsmokers

* * *

Francine twirled the lavender between her fingers, laying back into Arthur, they were both sitting and enjoying the sun as it warmed the trees and soft purple fields and around them. They had discarded their jackets, from the much colder morning, beside them. The sun's warmth now tingled against their skin.

She sighed. It couldn't be put off any longer.

"I know you're in love with someone else."

Sitting against a tree, Arthur had lazily been playing with her hair, but then he froze.

"You're not very subtle about it." Francine continued. "And so if you've been hiding it to spare my feelings, then congratulations, you've done a shoddy job."

Arthur recovered from the shock of being discovered, and then trying not to let too much emotion slip into his voice, said, "Are you wanting to break up, then?"

"No." Francine answered, almost immediately. "Look, I don't care that you love another person. What I care about is that you kept it from me, thinking that would somehow be best."

Arthur had no response to that.

"Are you… are you wanting to break up?" Francine asked.

The wind rustled their hair and the flowers around them. Francine had stopped twirling her piece of lavender.

"I… I don't want that, no." Arthur finally admitted.

"Then stay with me, here, for just a little longer."

There was a pause.

"Okay."

They leaned back again, staring out at the hills along the horizon. Arthur shifted a moment and picked up Francine's purse. He then fished around until he found them, two cigarettes. He offered one to Francine. She accepted it, and held it out for him to light it.

"I thought you said you were trying to quit." Francine said, turning her head to watch Arthur light his own cigarette.

Arthur took his first breathe and exhale of smoke. "You offered me one the first time we came here."

Francine blew her own wisp of smoke, and it tangled with Arthur's smoke. "I remember."

It was the eve of the first global war. No one had quite expected the web of alliances to tumble into such a conflict. It was before either of them had stepped into the mess. What should have been a beautiful midsummer was tense with the unexpected.

Francine had shown Arthur the lavender fields, if just to take his mind off of the politics of it all. They both remembered the yellow dress Francine wore, the way she urged Arthur to just take off his ugly brown suit jacket and relax.

They had held each other then, kissed, hands roaming. For a moment, their cigarette smoke tangling as it ascended into the sky, they were able to pretend that everything was okay.

So, decades later, under the same tree that they had made their respite, they held each other and smoked. Arthur put a sprig of lavender in Francine's hair. She took his hand. They smoked slowly, delaying when they would reach the end of their cigarettes. Another wind, a cool breeze, flew through. Francine tried not to shiver.

Arthur held her closer.

And, as their love filtered up away with their smoke, they said nothing. There was nothing more to be said.

* * *

Arthur's Note: Okay, wow, I am so sorry for that. Yes, I do ship Fruk. (ww1 soldier england and lady france is my fave nyo version of the ship, btw) This just kind of... happened...

I hope the next ficlet I write will be fluffier, but that all depends on the next song.

Also, you might be thinking, 'the song says Paris, is this Paris?' No. This is Provence. I kind of headcanon Francine representing more of southern France. So.

Anyways go google pics of Provence and lavender fields, it is pretty~


	4. Belaliech

Belaliech - (Belarus/Liechtenstein)

Inspiring Song: Issues - Julia Michaels

* * *

 _tw: blood, minor cuts_

* * *

When the glass shattered in Natalya's hand, Lili didn't rush to her.

She took a breath and reminded herself to stand back a moment, gage the situation, and watch what Natalya would do. Seeing little peeks of blood appear on Natalya's hand, it was hard not to immediately race for the nearest bandages, or broom, or _something_ , or even just pull Natalya into an embrace.

No. Lili stood, rooting herself to the spot, and watched.

Natalya didn't seem to realize what she did at first, or that she had been cut and was bleeding. She was still glaring, wild eyed, at the phone she had just slammed down on the receiver. It was a wonder she hadn't broken the phone, and it was possibly because part of her strength had been taken out on the wine glass.

It was likely the sting of the remaining wine on her cuts that snapped Natalya out of her quiet rage.

She cursed and turned her glare on her hand, opening her fingers carefully to drop the rest of the glass on the floor, and winced. She waited a moment, and in that moment, Lili held her breath.

When nothing happened, and Natalya was reassured of her own safety and autonomy, she grabbed tissues from a nearby box and wiped up the wine that had dripped down her wrist. Lili watched as Natalya treated her own wounds, and once she had started to pick up the pieces of glass on the desk and floor, the tiny cuts in her hand were already healing over.

It was only when Natalya turned around, the pieces of glasses collected in tissues and a piece of paper, that she noticed that Lili was standing there. They locked eyes a moment, said nothing, and then Natalya walked past Lili.

Lili heard Natalya throw the glass away in the recycling bin. Natalya came back with a little broom and dust pan, and cleaned up the rest of the mess. She disposed of that as well. When she came back, she double checked the phone to make sure they didn't have to buy a new one. Again.

Finally, when everything was suitable, Natalya let out a long, broken sigh. Her shoulders hunched over and shook slightly, but still, Lili waited.

"Lili." Natalya whispered.

That was the cue. Lili stepped forward readily and wrapped Natalya in her little arms. Together, they collapsed into the desk chair, with Lili sitting partially in the chair and partially in Natalya's lap. Natalya clung to Lili and nuzzled into the crook of Lili's neck. They rubbed each other's backs.

"Thank you," Natalya mumbled into Lili's shoulder.

To anyone else, it would have seemed the strangest thing. To thank someone for doing nothing. But Lili knew, and understood likely better than most, that stepping in would only make things worse. Natalya needed control of the situation. She needed a moment where she felt capable.

And Lili would always respond the way Natalya needed, even if others didn't understand.

Because at the end of the day, the two understood each other on a level that most did not. When they wouldn't leave a single crumb of food wasted, no matter how much they disliked the dish, they understood. When someone told Natalya that she'd be prettier if she smiled, or that Lili should speak up more and stop being so shy, they understood. When something went wrong and others immediately came rushing in, not giving them a moment to say _I am more than a pretty face and a fragile ego_ , they understood.

So when Natalya was ready to accept affection, when she was certain it was on her own terms and there was no other ulterior motive, Lili would hold her like she did now, perched somewhat on her lap, the two somehow finding the need to reassure the other. Lili asked if Natalya wanted to talk about it, and Natalya shook her head. The wordless exchange.

No, just love me.

I will.

And they stayed like that.

* * *

Author's Note: okay. wow. um. i clearly have _feelings_.

Note of explanation (from someone who did rudimentary research on this, feel free to let me know things) - for much of Belarus' history, the people have been ruled over by some other power, and for a good bit of that, their culture and language was repressed (like Russians wanting everyone to speak Russian, not Belarusian). And following ww2, Belarus' population and economy was wrecked, and the country has been quite dependent on Russia since then. Honestly, I feel like this has led to Natalya being seriously mistrustful of others while also not quite knowing how to help or be herself.

In a quite different situation, Liechtenstein's early history, the royal family didn't even live in the territory, but just depended on the wealth of the Hapsburgs for their own influence, so I feel like Lili was materially spoiled as a child, but emotionally neglected and maybe even used as a political tool. And then her economy nearly tanked following ww1, as the show points out, and she became dependent on Switzerland. Mind you, Liechtenstein is an extraordinarily wealthy country today, but Lili knows what it's like to feel helpless.

And maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe next time I'll actually have something lighthearted!


	5. Hunukr

HunUkr - (NonBinary!Hungary/Ukraine)

Inspiring Song: Replay - Zendaya

* * *

Erzsebet liked to pass Katyusha notes.

They liked to pass her notes right under Russia and Germany and America's noses. Or whoever was trying to host the meeting at the time.

Either way, whoever was host would pretend not to notice. Usually. One time Denmark hosted a meeting and had a field day with it, and by the end of the meeting, everyone had established an elaborate system of sending little notes and airplanes to their significant other. Germany had to lay down some rules after that meeting. But Erzsebet knew that Germany had a soft spot for them. Rules couldn't stop Erzse.

It drove Russia crazy. Belarus didn't care, or even notice half the time. She was usually too busy playing games on her phone under the table. Katyusha was delighted by every little piece of paper that landed her way. It didn't matter if the note contained nothing more than a quick heart doodle, or a long, romantic poem. Katyusha adored each note. She liked to give her notes kisses before sending them to Erzsebet.

So Erzsebet kept passing notes.

It was a confusing practice to many. They would approach Erzsebet with their unsolicited opinions.

"Can you not wait until after the meeting to talk to her?"

"You two sit across the room from each other. Why go through all the trouble?"

"You do know that, like, ten people, or something, read the notes before they get to Kat, right?"

"Why can't you send me notes like that?"

Erzsebet received all the questions with a practiced smile. They would wait until the complaint or inquiry of the day had been filed, wish the person a good day, and then make their leave.

When it was break time, or meal time, or the time after the meeting had adjourned and people were supposed to go back to their own hotel rooms, but _no one_ followed that rule, Erzsebet and Katyusha would meet. The two would trade words of affection and real kisses. Katyusha would gush over which notes she liked best (all of them), and Erzsebet would ask Katyusha out for dinner.

Then, even at the restaurant, the two would pass notes. Sometimes they thought to take little scraps of paper with them, and some pens, so that they could slide the note oh so subtly across the table, connect gazes, and the other would brush their hand over the offered hand and note. Other times the two giggled as they texted from behind the tablecloth.

The notes were usually silly messages like, 'you're looking cute today,' or 'there could be songs about your smile.' One time, Katyusha passed back a note with a pressed flower from her garden. Erzsebet had that note laminated, and it sat in the corner of their mirror, to admire every day.

Each note was cherished and saved. Katyusha kept Erzse's notes in a mason jar that she had decorated with glittery flowers. Erzsebet kept Kat's notes in a little wooden chest, kept safe by a lock and key. It was incredible how much these pieces of paper were loved. Not loved as much as the one who sent the note, but a remarkable love, all the same.

Erzsebet and Katyusha weren't entirely sure how the tradition started. Maybe it started that one meeting where Erzsebet was bored and Katyusha looked sad about something, and Erzsebet loved Katyusha's every emotion, but _hated_ seeing Kat with a helpless expression. The note had made Katyusha cry and run into Erzsebet's arms the moment the last word of the conclusion was given.

Or maybe it started hundreds of years ago, when Erzsebet was recognized as a warrior and a protector, and the two sent letters to each other through servants and ladies in waiting. The two had to wait longer for replies. But people gossiped then as they did now, so the situations weren't all that different.

It didn't matter how many people snooped or tried to cut in. For Erzsebet and Katyusha, sending notes was something private, fun, and _intimate_. Notes were like a whisper to someone too far away to hear you. Except, unlike whispers, you can read and reread a note as many times as you like. The message was there to be cherished whenever.

So Erzsebet liked to pass Katyusha notes.

And Katyusha liked to pass notes back.

* * *

Author's Note: Haha! Finally! A fluffy fanfic!


	6. Gerita

Gerita - (Germany/North Italy)

Inspiring Song: Bubbly - Colbie Caillat

* * *

The thunderstorm had caught them both off guard.

Any other time, Feliciano would have adored to stay outside and dance in the puddles of warm summer rain, dragging Ludwig along for a twirl, but they had groceries to keep dry.

Ludwig had been prepared, and when it felt unbearably humid that morning, he had brought along an umbrella. (Feliciano had protested that there was not a cloud in the sky, but when they heard thunder, he only giggled when Ludwig threw him a 'told you so' look.) On the walk back home, the two did their best to guard their fresh vegetables and various ingredients from the rain whipping past them in the wind.

The groceries were kept safe.

Ludwig and Feliciano, on the other hand, were drenched by the time they stumbled in the doorway. Feliciano nearly bolted to the kitchen to put the groceries away, and Ludwig had to hold him back so they could strip off their sopping wet clothes at the door. Once they were both in their underwear, Feliciano could finally put the groceries away without trailing water from the door to the kitchen, and Ludwig carefully gathered their wet clothes to put in the dryer.

Feliciano was nearly done putting the groceries away when Ludwig returned with a change of warm clothes for the both of them.

But Feliciano only accepted his pants, and opted with going shirtless.

He snuggled into Ludwig's chest, and while Ludwig half-heartedly complained that "Feliciano, your hair is getting my shirt wet, Feliciano, please," he still returned the embrace.

The ingredients that they had bought sat patiently on the counter as Feliciano stood on his tippy toes for a kiss, and Ludwig grumbled a moment before dipping down and capturing Feliciano in a warm, close hold. Ludwig waddled the two over, Feliciano stuck to him like brick and mortar, so that he could fetch a kitchen towel and dry Feliciano's hair. Once Feliciano's hair wasn't dripping water all down Ludwig's shirt and Feliciano's bare back, and it had been properly disheveled, Feliciano snatched the towel to return the favor.

"I already – stop that, I already dried my hair! You're messing it up!"

"You're cute this way!"

"I'm not cute!"

"Nonsense, you're always cute! Especially when you think no one's looking and you sing to yourself while you're bakin-umf!"

Ludwig had pressed the towel in Feliciano's face.

"Speaking of that, dinner will not cook itself." Ludwig said as he did his best to untangle their limbs.

Feliciano pulled down the towel and gave Ludwig a dopey grin.

Outside the thunder crashed again, and a few moments later, lightning illuminated the heavy clouds. Ludwig managed to get the two free from each other so that they could start preparing their evening meal. Feliciano kept the towel on his head as he chopped the vegetables, and Ludwig worked at the stove. The storm carried on, rain splashing against the house, but inside it was dry and warm – except for when Feliciano splashed Ludwig with water from the sink. (If they hadn't just changed, Ludwig might have taken revenge.)

Soon the familiar smell of a rainstorm, drifting in from outside, mixed with the scent of a lovingly homemade meal. Feliciano nuzzled against Ludwig again before going to set the table. They didn't bother sitting across the table from each other, because Feliciano liked to feed bits of his food to Ludwig, and they liked to hold hands. The two enjoyed each other's easy company, conversing about their lives and any topic they liked, sneaking loving gazes when the other wasn't looking, but could still noticed.

Time flowed on without them noticing, and by the time they were retreating back to the kitchen to wash their dishes, the rain had become a light drizzle, the dark clouds moved on to somewhere else.

Once everything was clean, the two snuggled up together for a movie, falling asleep somewhere in the middle, feeling too safe in each other's arms to care much about anything else.

* * *

Author's Note: God. This is too much fluff.

(it doesn't help that gerita is my otp, so this was bound to happen)

But the song only makes it worse!


End file.
